


Scarring Softly

by Wristic



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Heavy Petting, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 17:58:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15345363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wristic/pseuds/Wristic
Summary: The shock dampens shortly after Ragnarok. Neither you nor Thor came out without scars. Thor has lost his eye while you had nearly died impaled by a lance of Hela’s. In the silence, you two take a moment to simply recuperate.





	Scarring Softly

It felt too long since things stopped spinning. Dropping your head back against the extravagantly carved headboard, you let out a slow but tight sigh. The new quarters of the new Allfather you supposed. Peeking an eye open, Thor was still moseying around the room in a robe matching yours, a swirling splatter of red and brown and gold silk. Silence, sweet silence. The first after the misadventure began, the first after the destruction of Asgard.

Reaching a weary hand out, you called for him. A meek and equally tired, “Hey.”

His snapped to you, wide worry in his face before you wiggled your fingers for him to come closer. The relax came as quickly as his smile, sauntering up to the bedside. The closer he drew the more your skin teemed in anticipation, your own grin spreading.

As he sat you felt warmth against your hip, feeling it reach over and encase you as his hand pulled snugly at your opposite thigh. The hand that had been reaching cupped his stubble cheek. The eye patch was hard not to be drawn to, now the first feature to come faced with when searching in his gaze. It didn’t bother you as when it was bloodied and gored. Sheer panic for his grave looking wound, Thor never had one so noticeable on him before. Trailing your fingers down his temple, you whispered, like if it was a secret Thor wouldn’t dodge like he does. “Does it hurt?”

“Not anymore.” Despite his cheery grin you gave him a questioning tilt, yet he still tried to make light. “Having a hard time pouring things lately though.”

Accepting that was all he wanted to say on the matter, you returned his smile, moving onto his chopped hair. Running your nails through short fuzzy ends, tempted to follow the decorative lines, you’d never seen it so short. Never seen it so dark either. Much like the eye patch, the look really became him. Your smile grew more genuine thinking, was there really nothing this man couldn’t pull off? He’d lost everything,  _everything_. Home and family, faithful weapon, even his very body was reinvented from who he was before. Still he held that golden glow. The strength in him just astounded you over and over again. Most would have been so torn under the weight of all he faced, not easing a lover’s worry with a smile.

In the silence and your silent admiration, Thor began to shift. Bringing your gaze back to the present you found him bashful, his smile turned shy as he snickered out, “What?”

Your chest felt the burning echo of how embarrassed he was by your unabashed staring, but it only made you shoot back the same nervous, “What?“

“You’re staring at me like, I don’t know…”

“Like you’re the very stars in my sky?” You finished for him, blooming in joy to see Thor twist away from your teasing poetry. Before he could run away with his blush you grabbed at his rough hand and brought it to your lips. “Looking to you as my moon brightening my darkest night?” He covered his face with a free hand as you kissed his knuckles. “Marveling how you hold me enraptured and keep me safe?”

Fingers slipped down to see you, and a small twist of guilt hit you in how his eye went straight to your shoulder. The robe had slipped enough to show thick bandages already damp and tinted pink in a long line. While you were quick to try and pull it back up, flustered with the light air having been swept away, Thor pinched the end of the robe open. 

Hela’s lance had cut through like you were nothing more than water. A split second, pain immeasurable, the world gone behind white agony that seared so hot it was freezing. It was meant to kill, and because it didn’t, it was like the weapon was tormenting you for clinging to life.

“It’s healing.” You reassured him, slipping the end from his fingers to shamefully cover it up. He was quiet, still, unable to tear his gaze from the shoulder you both thought would never stop bleeding. Technically it still hadn’t. A flutter in your chest sickened your lungs as you breathed, the stress sapping what little energy you had. “Come here.” 

All you had to do was open your arms. The grin slipped back on him, strong arms curling up around your sides, yours holding him tight and playing in his hair, melting into one another, into the bed, disappearing from the universe to one that was just you and him.

Slowly his heat reached you, matching his even if it was an achingly slow process. You were here. You were alive. That was all that mattered now. Being consumed by him and not the cold reaches of death. 

The slightest nuzzle in the crook of your neck sent tingles dripping down your spine. You bit your lip with how strong the sensation was, it easing the crease in your brow as you nuzzled back into his temple. Goosebumps followed long trails where his hands wandered. It seemed your body was in more need than you imagined. The silk was paper thin, like you were wearing nothing at all, like his fingers were caressing soft bare skin and pulling heat wherever he touched. 

Breath ghosted down your neck and you keened into the heat, opening for more. You felt him lick his lips, a feather touch of his tongue before his mouth took the spot that had you squirming, burning. Nails unintentionally drug down his soft hair, your leg pulling out to embrace him, heat pooling at your core in desperate need to have him even closer, have him completely.

A flutter in your chest made you stiffen. Yet being in his embrace felt so safe. The weight on your body a balm to all the bruised and sore muscles, the fire he ignited deep in your bones the drink of life you needed. While Thor himself and your doctor might of scolded you for not speaking up, you ignored the little palpitations. Begged them to leave. The thought of breaking apart now stung.

Petting along his head you gently pulled him to face you, crashing your lips to his. The kiss wasn’t perfect, catching only his bottom lip and pushing stronger than you needed, desperate to match his fervor. But you were no Asgardian, you couldn’t heal like he could. Both arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you tight, crushing you in the embrace you wanted-craved- _needed_ , everything you  _needed_. So many times were you too close to losing him, too many times, going back and forth to losing and finding and losing again, only to see how much he lost along the way.

Peppering kisses over and over on his lips, never once loosening your grip he pressed himself hard between your legs and against the headboard. Hips bucking under yours, your legs curling around him like a cage. The pulsing it stirred low in your belly got you whimpering against his wetted mouth, mewling his name before laving your tongue against his. The low rumble in his chest shook through you, out to every nerve. You called him again, pushing down his silk robe, feeling along the intricate muscle that got you so thirsty when you first met.

The better memory pulled a smile from you, rolling the fabric down his arms, watching his skin be free for your greedy touch. As soon as he could pull free his hands, he firmly pulled your mouth back to his, sucking at your lip to open you up, filling you with a slick heat that consumed more hungrily than you realized. He was always so quiet in the things he wanted, willfully ignoring what he needed. All confidence and quick quips, yet as his hips rutted up into yours, broken grunts slipped into your throat, his body was tense in the struggle to keep every valiant wall up. 

Suddenly everything was too hot, your legs too wet, your hands too numb. But God you didn’t want to stop. It was so unfair, wanting to give and give and not being strong enough to match up to his charity.  

Your gasp shook as you broke apart from the kiss, your head dropping loud to the headboard, your eyes held shut tight because it hurt too much to face him. The wounded shoulder began to sting and ache, making your heart bounce between fluttering and pounding and your breath impossible to catch. A set of warm hands cupped your face and his deep forgiving voice blessed your ears, “You’re trembling.”  

“I know.” Breathless and still your disappointment was clear. 

Knowing he was closing in didn’t prepare you for the softness of his kiss. Plush and slow, savoring the connection so perfect you couldn’t imagine it ever fitting another. The warmth was so gentle it wrapped you up, washed away the little panic attack and the shame that flared up with it. Before you had wanted to say sorry, now all you wanted was for him to never leave. Pulling on the robe still tied to his waist, you pleaded, “Please don’t go yet-”

His fingers trailed along the line of your hair, his smile so inviting and sweet. “I had no intention.” In a break of tenderness he shrugged, “I wasn’t expecting to get as far as we did.”

Thor planted a kiss on your forehead while you snickered away. Him moving from you was disappointing, feeling lighter and colder without him, but he curled into your side. Even if he was flush against you, you scooted closer, tangling your legs in his, bringing a hand up to play in his hair.

You inched into sleep to gentle petting. The tender shoulder was being handled with such care you almost forgot it was punctured completely though. Before you were lost to him for hours on end, you raised a hand and trailed it along his check, scrapping on the stubble. “For the record, the eye patch is pretty cool. So rugged.” You reminisced, feeling him silently snicker.

As he spoke, where his voice would normally bounce off the walls with his glee, he kept it low and smooth, further easing you to sleep. “I can’t wait to see your scar closed.” You felt the corner of your robe open. The pink shade had gotten darker, a red damp line reaching from the top of your shoulder to above your chest. “It’s going to be a big one you know. I wonder what you tales you’ll make up when we reach Midgard.”

You wanted to respond. Make some witty quip about how the story definitely won’t be you charging recklessly when you saw him pinned down by Hela. But all that came as a vague crackled mumble, the sound of his heart beat the lullaby that did you in.


End file.
